[MF] Fun with a MILF music lover (~ 4,000 words)

Hi again – here’s another story after [my earlier one](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6ki0ky/mf_cute_russian_girl_gave_me_a_fond_farewell_5000/).

The NSFW material starts at the line break after the build-up (if you’re the kind of person who reads r/gonewildstories for the plot, you’ve come to the right place). Hope you enjoy it!

***

I had been a university graduate for about a year and I was working my first “real job” on contract in London, sharing a slightly run-down flat with two people I didn’t really know at all. But it was great to have some of my own space and it was a walkable distance from work, so I was lucky enough to avoid a hellish commute. And living in one of the world’s major cities with a little disposable income made me eager to experience new things – like going to a rock concert. I’d been a fan of several groups for years but had never been to a festival or anything. So when the American hard rockers Clutch announced they would be touring in London, I bought a ticket right away.

It didn’t matter that I’d be going by myself; from comments I’d read on the Internet, the band always put on a great show. It was in mid-spring when the Friday of the gig came. After getting straight back from work, I cleaned up my buzz cut and changed into a red and white checked flannel shirt, blue jeans, black combat boots and a black Harrington jacket – it was the most rocker outfit I could put together. Were it not for my glasses, I’d have looked like an archetypal skinhead. I took the train towards Kentish Town in north London where the venue was. It’s one of my favourite parts of the city – quite a few classic pubs and it’s right next to Camden Town with its canals, street markets and art – a focal point for the “alternative” crowd. More my kind of crowd, hah.

Not really knowing the best time to arrive, I stepped out of the Underground and walked the short way there just before the doors were due to open. A line of people was snaking around the side of the building. Soon the doors opened, and after going through a security frisk, I found myself in the main hall. Then I quickly realised I’d have nothing much to do for the next 45 minutes. The lights were dimmed, ruby and electric indigo. AC/DC played in the background. Looking around, I could see a bunch of fans in their own groups as close as possible to the stage, and a few people milling around the bar and merchandise stand to my left. I bought a tour T-shirt to commemorate my first ever gig, heading to the men’s room to put it on, leaving my flannel shirt unbuttoned over it. Afterwards I bought a beer and just started slowly ambling around the hall, taking in the surroundings, such as they were.

Once I had made my third circuit or so, I fixed myself to a spot close to the centre of the pit in front of the stage, taking sips of my beer. About two minutes passed before I sensed someone walking up on my right. I turned my head and gazed upon a petite woman with a striking profile and dark crimson hair in a long pixie cut with a side-swept fringe. Usually I’m not a fan of that kind of hairstyle, but it suited her perfectly. I judged her to be around my age, maybe. She was wearing a black bomber jacket with a lot of zippers, very muted blue jeans and black boots, but her poise would have been apt in a ballroom dress. I sensed here was a woman of beautiful contrast, I was attracted immediately.

My next thought of introducing myself passed in a split-second as it kicked my adrenaline up. *OK, she’ll probably brush you off, but so what? It’s not like you have much to lose here.*

I tilted myself towards her slightly. “Hi,” I opened.

She turned to me, and her radiant face lit up in a big smile. “Hiii!” she replied.

*Whoa, there’s some instant chemistry for you.*

“Having fun?”

“Of course, we’re going to see Clutch!”

I chuckled. “You’ve been a fan for a long time?”

The conversation carried on easily from there. We talked about the band, our favourite albums by them (for me *Blast Tyrant*, she leaned towards *Robot Hive/Exodus*), and how we got introduced to them before moving on to other topics. I learned she was from Latvia, her friends there had recommended the band to her.

Her oval face was light, but bordering on olive-toned, and her eyes were large and sky-blue. Her nose was straight and her smile was a little mischievous, counteracting the otherwise innocent impression that her features would otherwise give. I really enjoyed seeing that smile.

Facing me, she noticed my black tour T-shirt. “Hey look, we match!” she noted, opening her jacket to reveal her white T-shirt in a similar style. She even gave me a chest bump to emphasise.

“So we do. My name’s Tom, by the way. What’s yours?” I asked, smirking.

“Laila,” she replied.

“Ah, like the Eric Clapton song. I bet you get that all the time.”

She laughed. “I do get that all the time, but I love Eric Clapton! Do you want another beer?” she asked, nodding down to my now empty plastic cup. “I’d get one myself, but I think we might lose our spot here,” she added, looking back towards the bar. I looked around, realising I hadn’t even noticed how much more crowded the venue had become, multitudes filling the space around the stage, the platform overlooking the pit, and the balcony area above.

“Yeah,” I answered. “How about I get the next round?”

“OK cool,” she agreed. I weaved back through the crowd and made my way to a bartender for two more pints. As I manoeuvred back, two guys who had been behind us noticed me and made way. “Here, we’ll let you get back to your girl,” one of them remarked as I passed. *She’s my girl now, is she?*

The opening act was another Maryland band, [Lionize](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EWSIs1eOvs). Pretty good, I thought, though Laila was more impatient to see the headliners. A huge cheer went up as soon as they came out and launched into [Earth Rocker](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzBSQ_zeUQ8). Laila and I were at the edge of the mosh, and I was game enough to brave slamming into a bunch of people for [The Mob Goes Wild](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eutd9uxYO1Y) and [Burning Beard](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6o1pPE6l0Vo), before scanning the crowd and finding her again for [The Face](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vPN1EY4MIK8).

Both of us were flushed and sweating – each wearing at least a couple of layers in a room packed with similarly exhilarated people and dotted with hot concert lights. Even so, she stepped in front of me and leaned back against my chest as the song went on. I placed my hands on her hips and swayed with her.

*Uncounted Les Pauls*

*Explode and take flight!*

*Where there was darkness*

*Now only light!*

*Alright Tom*, I thought, *if this girl hasn’t been giving you clear signals all night, I don’t know what’s been going on.* With that, I leaned down and kissed her cheek. I could see her face break out into another smile before she turned and wrapped her arms around my neck, singing the next refrain along with me.

*Uncounted Jazzmasters*

*Are rocking from the bottom of the sea!*

*The wicked are nought!*

*The righteous are free!*

We stuck close together for the last songs including a hotly demanded encore. Once the house lights went up and the giant throng of people turned to the exit, she asked me, “Do you want to get a drink?”

“Sure thing,” I answered. It’d have to be somewhere else as no one was going to be able to reach the venue’s bar any more. We battled our way out and headed down the road to a pub. Night was falling along with a misty cold rain. We found a bustling house on a corner with a few people huddled around on the pavement, but managed to grab a spot at a long wooden table inside with no one too close to eavesdrop. We took off our jackets and Laila bought the next round. Our conversation started off going over how great the band were and me charging into the mosh before she turned to a more personal topic.

“So, how old are you?” she inquired, with the tone of someone who’d had such a question on their mind for a while. I on the other hand hadn’t given much thought to how old she was.

“Take a guess, how old do you think I am?” I teased.

She looked me over for a second. “I guess… in your twenties. Early twenties.”

I nodded. “Twenty-three.”

“Hm, well I’m ten years older than you,” she explained, raising her eyebrows. “What would you say about that?”

*You don’t look it*, is something I should have said out loud but didn’t. “That doesn’t bother me,” I replied, looking her in her bewitching eyes. I’d been with older women before, my girlfriend at uni had been a PhD student seven years my senior. It was kind of a special thrill to be with a woman who was a bit older, actually. Because she’d be more established and accomplished than me, and for all intents and purposes would be more authoritative than me in public… but in private, when she’s lying naked on her bed and gasping at me to fuck her – different story. That subversive element’s a hell of a feeling.

She paused for a beat. “And what would you say if I told you I have a kid?”

That I wasn’t expecting. I know what a lot of guys would have advised me. “Don’t get involved with a single mother.” In other contexts they may well have been right. But I’d been drawn to this woman the moment I’d laid eyes on her. She clearly liked me back. Also… wouldn’t it be interesting, to be with a bona fide MILF? I’d been dying to have some interesting experiences for a good while – and now one was happening, was I going to turn it down?

I shrugged. “That doesn’t bother me either.” A pause. “How, uh, how old is your kid?”

“Seven.”

*If you’re 33, born when you were 26, huh?*

She continued. “Her name’s Anna.”

“Lovely name,” I commented. Laila smiled.

“For a lovely girl. Yeah, I live with two of my Latvian friends. They’re nice enough to babysit sometimes.”

“When you want to let off steam,” I teased with a smile. “I imagine your friends aren’t into hard rock as much as you are.”

“No,” she sighed. “That’s why I came out by myself.”

“I know how you feel.”

It sounded as if I’d put her apprehension to rest for the moment. We got another round in at last orders and carried on talking. She was happy to chat a little in Russian when she found out I’d studied it. When our conversation paused now and then, I caught her staring at me with a slight, naughty smile on her face. I bet she was thinking filthy thoughts. *We obviously want each other, why should hesitation stand in the way?*

As the pub closed for the night we put our jackets back on and headed out into the fine rain. After working up so much of a sweat at the concert, the cold was making me shiver. I walked Laila to the stop where she could catch a bus home, swapping numbers with her along the way. As a bus pulled up, she turned to face me up close with that seductive smile. I took hold of her arms and brought her in for a soft, sensual kiss. I felt nothing else but her lips and her body in that moment, not the rain, not the cold. She smiled again and waved goodbye as she set off. I was in real high spirits the whole journey home.

We texted the next day to check on each other and resolve to meet again. In the middle of the following week, I got a text from her at work. “Hey hun, what do you think about seeing this on Friday?” Attached was a link to a performance listing of *Dialogues des Carmélites* at the Royal Opera House.

*A woman of beautiful contrast, indeed. Opera, really?*

I was a little surprised she’d given me a pet name so quickly. I texted back, “”hun”? ;) interesting that you want to see an opera”

She replied straight away. “you know what I mean! xx yeah, it’s by one of my favourite composers. and Simon Rattle will be conducting.” (He’s quite a famous English conductor.)

*Hmm, well, I do want to experience new things – and I’ve never seen an opera.*

I sent back that I’d see about tickets and looked up the ROH website. Turns out opera is still pretty popular, and with a couple of days to go before the performance, the only available seats right then were a few single ones scattered far apart in the back of the auditorium. I refreshed the page every so often as the day went on to see if prospects improved. As evening came, suddenly two adjacent seats became available in a decent part of the upper-most section.

*If things are going to be made easy for me, Fate itself must want me to get with this woman.*

Laila was very impressed I had found seats. On the evening of the performance I waited to meet her at Leicester Square in a dark suit and white shirt, no tie, under the impression I ought to be at least relatively sharp-looking. She arrived beaming in a calf-length satiny azure dress. I was right when I thought she’d look great in such a style. I kissed her cheek and we set off on the busy streets towards the opera house.

We settled in our places high up in the top-tiered balcony, surrounded by red velvet and golden adornment. Apparently I didn’t need to dress up so much, the majority of the audience was in casual wear. Still, felt pretty classy. Laila linked her arm with mine and kissed me before the first half began. When the intermission was announced we headed for drinks at the bar and chatted. She was excited to be there, and I was actually enjoying it quite a bit as well, probably in no small part thanks to my companion. She continued our totally high-brow night out by commenting on the wine we were having. I mentioned that I always seemed to have bottles of wine on hand – my dad imported wine for some years and would often give me different kinds as presents. The last kind he’d gifted me was a Kindzmarauli, a Georgian red wine (country, not state, heh).

Laila gasped at this. “Georgian wines are the best! OK, I’m coming to your place later.”

“Whoa, whoa,” I joked. “I never said you could raid my stash!” Internally, *fuck yes, it’s on.*

We returned to our places for the second half. The applause was especially loud during the curtain call when the characteristic white, curly hair of the conductor could be seen. As we left, Laila had the idea of hanging out at a rock bar in Soho. It was a tiny place, and I bet we were the most conspicuously overdressed people who had ever set foot in there – we got a few bemused looks from other patrons in denim and leather. As we sat in a corner booth with our IPAs, Laila leaned in close and whispered that she wanted “to do something naughty.” I just about managed to ask her what she had in mind before she turned to shift over my lap, pinning me down with her body and taking hold of my head to make out with me. A display like that in a crowded bar had me a little self-conscious, but it also made me feel like some kind of debauched king; it was pretty amazing.

After finishing our drinks, we took a bus to my flat, my arm around Laila as she leaned her head on my shoulder. When we got in I grabbed the wine and two small, short glasses as she stepped into my room. I had tried to decorate a little around the double bed which took up most of the space with a few potted plants and pictures for the walls. One of the pictures was an old map of the world; I found Laila looking at it as I entered.

“When is this map from?” she asked.

I didn’t exactly know, I’d really only bought it because it looked cool. I took a closer look. “… 1920s, I’d say. Post-World War I borders.”

“And Latvia’s independent,” she noted.

I poured two glasses and handed her one.

“You have to make a toast,” she insisted.

“Erm… to an independent Latvia?”

She laughed out loud. “You could have maybe made that toast in 1989!”

She raised her glass. “Mmm… this has been calling to me.” She and I both drank deep. I recommend Kindzmarauli, it has a wonderful vibrant, sweet taste.

——————————————————————————————————————————

She fixed her gaze on me, savouring the wine. As she lowered her glass she told me, “I’ve had a really good time tonight, Tom. Thank you.”

The sincerity of her voice made my heart melt. A brief moment passed. Neither of us looked away. *She’s waiting for your move.* I set down my glass, took hers away and stepped forward to kiss her. Her hands slowly stroked over my shoulders and around the back of my neck as my pulse started to race. We sank down onto the end of my bed. Kissing her cheeks, her ear and down her neck, I heard her breathing get quicker. A jasmine scent lingered on her. Slowly, she pulled off my jacket before reclining back and making herself open to me. I tore off my glasses. My hands stroked down the silky material of her dress down to her waist.

She nudged herself back to fully stretch out over my bed. I straddled her and moved my hand underneath her dress, pushing it up. Her hands took hold and pulled the material over her head, showing a white bra over B-cups and white lace panties. I planted kisses all over her, unbuttoning my shirt and taking off her bra. In the warm light of my room, her body glowed like gold. I just couldn’t get enough of it. I worshipped every inch of her slender figure and tasted her small nipples. Her hand were all over me. I pulled off her underwear and kissed up her thighs to her pussy. No sooner had I wrapped my lips around her clit than she suddenly sat up and pushed me back on my knees to lie on her front, swiftly undoing my trousers. As soon as she found my firm cock she filled her mouth with it. “Oh God,” I whispered. *This sexy cougar’s naked on your bed sucking you off, it doesn’t get better than this.*

She sensed how hard I was and released me after a minute. She shifted back to lie down face-up, spreading her legs wider and urging me on with her stare. Seemed foreplay was over. I got astride her, holding myself up with one hand, and reaching down to touch her with my other. Her expression quivered when I felt how slick she was. At once I snatched a rubber from my bedside drawers and wrapped myself. I lowered my dick to her cunt and kept my eyes on her pretty face. As I slowly pushed inside her, she closed her eyes, rested her head back against the mattress and exhaled deeply, like she was getting something long anticipated.

I started slow, taking the time to respect how astounding she felt. She responded by wrapping her arms and legs around me, spurring me on. When her hands roamed over my back she got her claws into me quite literally, her nails digging into my body. I wasn’t used to introducing pain into sex, it drove me to speed up my thrusts. When I did, she gripped harder, her eyes closed, taking short sharp breaths, lost in the sensation. I growled and fucked her more fiercely. She murmured, “Yes… be rough with me.” It was a strange mix of agony and lust. I almost told her to stop, then she threw her arms back and turned her head to her left, her visage strained, lightly biting down on the inside of her arm as her body shook. When she came, I moved my hands up to pin hers down. She snapped her look back at me and her eyes flashed with approval. I was doing things right. That look finished me in a few more strokes, my eyes and jaw clenched shut as my climax slammed the air out of me.

Laila stroked my face as I recovered and grazed her lips over mine. We kissed lightly and slowly before she nested against my chest and we fell asleep spooning. Very gentle of her, though the scratch marks on my back when I looked in the mirror the next day showed me she could be otherwise, hah.

As I awoke to pale light steaming through my window, Laila was still snoozing with her back to me. We were in that state of peak comfort you get when you wake up in a good warm bed after a nice sleep. I reached over to stroke her from her shoulder down the side of her body, over and over. Her skin was so fine, I was addicted. After a few moments, she stirred.

“Are you trying to get me worked up again?” I couldn’t see her face, but I could tell she was smiling.

I carried on stroking. “Your body’s gorgeous, I can’t stop myself.”

She laughed softly and inched closer. More minutes passed. Finally she uttered “OK” and turned towards me to press herself against me, kissing my face. I covered her neck in kisses as my shaft stiffened again. She pushed me over on my back and I wrapped up a second time. She mounted me and guided my dick back into her. Her body was so hot on top of me. She stretched out and started grinding with me, her face feverish and her short hair messed up. My cock eased in and out of her faster and faster. I grasped her thighs to boost her momentum. She lost herself again. She gasped, “Fuck I’m gonna cum again, fuck.” I urged her on, “Yes, come on, you’re so fucking sexy, I wanna see you come.” She arched back, her face tense, and shuddered. When she collapsed on top of me, my own orgasm hit. I squeezed her tight and opened my eyes to her blushing face looking down at me.

“You like being on top?” She grinned and nodded quickly. “Yeah…” I pulled the covers back over us and we dozed like that for a while.

At last we got up, showered and dressed, then I walked her to the station where she would catch a train home, stopping at a café on the way for breakfast. We dated for several months afterwards. Once her phone rang in the middle of sex and I got her to answer it while I kept fucking her. She called me a pervert once she hung up, hah! Another night she brought me back to her place after we had been out drinking. Her housemates were keen on meeting “the boy that Laila keeps talking about” the next morning, and her daughter Anna was an altogether lighthearted and well-behaved girl (who, ah, didn’t ask any awkward questions). It was a treat to be with Laila around the city, even when doing something as simple as walking through the park. We went to Primrose Hill, a scenic green space where you can see a great skyline of London. She couldn’t stop kissing me there – some teenagers who were nearby shouted at us to “get a room”, hahah! I was sought out for my teaching work in Russia as the contract for my graduate job was running out. Laila was really happy for me. Even proud. We messaged each other for a while when I was over there, but ultimately drifted out of touch. The two of us were really after some relatively short-term fun – I gathered that later on she found another man who was, you know, more her age and also Latvian and probably more of a father figure to Anna than I could have been. I hope she’s doing well now, she deserves to.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8cf3tm/mf_fun_with_a_milf_music_lover_4000_words

3 comments on “[MF] Fun with a MILF music lover (~ 4,000 words)

  1. You have amazing skill with words, that ending got very real very fast. Amazing job

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